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2014.03.22 - Who Am I? (Reprise)
Rain. It's almost a constant for Gotham. Crouched before one of the weeping Angels of one of the older buildings, the current Boy Wonder's no worse for the wear from the rain. If anything he seems immune to it despite his dark hair falling down across his forehead in a dripping tendril. The kid just watches what's going on around him from his perch. Robin doesn't move from his spot, the Weeping Angel's outstretched arms above his head, and watching the water that flows down its arms tracing patterns in grime. People down below crowd together beneath umbrellas to shelter each other from the rain that has begun tapering off to a light rain, the air cool, almost cold. Some find their breath misting in the air. It is not true that all cats hate water. Some relish it after a hot day. Such is the case for the streak of purple, red, blue and silver that crosses the space between buidlings, unnoticed by the pedestrians sheltered under their umbrellas. When it rains, almost nobody looks up. This version of his suit is slightly different- favoring neoprene over the usual spandex, and covering all of his body from the neck down. The band jacket, logically, is not part of the variant. It'd just get wet and slow him down, but there are silver accents across his chest and neck that are reminiscent of the jacket. When he lands, it is with a grace unmatched by most, even dedicated gymnasts. There is much to be said for the ease acquired over years of hard work and dedication, but there's also something to be said for mother nature, and one of her natural gymnasts was the cat. He lands and turns around, crouching low on a ledge to watch the passersby. Cats like water. It's being thrown in to water against their will that they hate. Robin has stopped many a cat from being given a bath. He spots Vorpal and if looks could kill the catman would probably be dead. He does NOT look happy to see him in the city. Utilizing a grappling hook and some impressive swinging, Robin lands near Vorpal in a crouch, the cape pooling about him. He does favor his father's theatrics,"What are you doing here?" The kid asks gruffly. Ah, that voice. That mellifluous voice. Like a toad from hell gargling on scum. The cat stands up and turns to look at Robin, his yellow-green fixate on the kid. He liked the old Robin better. "I -live- here." He states calmly, although his eyes, which are usually friendly and joyous, now bear the inscrutable expression of a disdainful cat. "And?" Robin asks standing up straight and crossing his arms. His own eyes hidden behind the white of his optics. However, he is probably most like the kitten hissing and arching its back as a show to try and intimidate than anything else. "Did Batman grant you permission to patrol here?" He asks in a cold harm voice. It'd probably be a nice voice if not for his shitty attitude. "I am a member of the Avengers and the Justice League of America. If Batman has any objections to me partolling -MY- home turf, he can take those straight to Diana of Themyscira or Superman. I do not require his permission to keep the innocent safe. After all-" his eyes narrow "I do not recall him being here when the Joker paraded his toxic float down the streets. I had to put him away. Or when Superman had to save people the Joker had gassed. And you know why? Because Batman can't be everywhere, and if he keeps trying to chase everybody away, next time he's wrestling Two-Face or whatever and the Joker decides to use that as his perfect time to spring a massive genocidal plot, innocent people will die because he's too (CENSORED) worried about being the (CENSORED) Godfather of Gotham than in what is best for the city." The Cheshire crosses his arms, "So I honestly don't give two (CENSORED) about his permission when a woman is about to be raped by a disgusting slimebucket and I'm the only one around that can hear her screams. Dig?" The kid actually seems to reach for a knife before he stops himself, Robin's voice makes Canada seem like a beach paradise as he speaks,"This is not your turf. This city is the Batman's. If you insult him again then you and I will have a LOT of trouble. I don't give a flying piss about who you have joined up with because it's of no consequence. Gotham belongs to the Batman. End of Story. There are those he trusts to patrol and there's he doesn't. So far he's not said you aren't, which is the only reason things haven't gotten messy." This Robin is an enforcer, who idolizes the Batman in a very different way. "As for Diana of Themyscira or Superman, they can stay where ever they want but they don't come here either." "Listen to me, you horrible goblin- you do not tell me where to go or what to do. And if you reach for that thing again, I am going to ensure that you regret it." He snaps his fingers, and the stripes on his fur change from being black to being pure purple light, small energy arcs crossing between stripes. "I live here. This is MY home. If you want to kick me out of it? You're going to have to deal with -me- and every ally I've got. And considering you are a bitchy, slimy little toad whom nobody likes outside of your little psychotic mentor? You'd be (CENSORED) ten ways from sunday. I have given my life in service of this city, it is why I was allowed to come back. And no self-entitled second-hand Robin is going to scare me off from doing what *I* know is right. If you want to be (CENSORED) stupid and worry about turfs when we've got gods of darkness trying to eat the world? Be my (CENSORED) guest. You'll never be half the man that the old Robin, or even Nightwing, are." He starts walking away. Or rather, his illusory double starts walking away. His invisible true self levitates a few feet upwards and watches. He knew the little ferret would just try to attack him. It was time to show that the Cheshire thing extended beyond the color of his fur. "You are a fool. I earned this title, I wasn't handed anything. I fear no one. Nor do I care to be liked. Unlike you I don't do it to be liked." Robin says smirking at Vorpal,"So you think that I care what someone who does what he does because he wants to be liked and has a quarter of the skills he thinks he does." He pauses for a moment but doesn't appear to be trying to draw the blades that were pretty evident. "Do not pretend to know anything about me either." "I do it because it is the -right- thing to do." The illusion turns around, narrowing his eyes. "I don't need to do it to be liked. Unlike you, I wasn't raised among wolves. What a sad little monkey you are." He muses, arms crossed. "And a quarter of the skills? My dear Secondhand Robin, I have more surprises in me than you would ever even -guess-. But most importantly of all, you know what you are?" The rain falls around Vorpal. "You are a bully. Oh yes, you are. There's thousands like you in every playground I've ever seen. That mantle you wear? It beholdens you to the people of Gotham and it demands that you -respect- them. You are not Robin. You're just a dirty raven with painted wings. A carrion eater." This actually makes Robin laugh, a cold sound,"You think I am a bully? I help people. The people I fight, deserve whatever I do to them." He says in that cold voice of his, a sneer on his lips,"I serve Batman, I do what he wishes me to do. I protect this city when he is not here." He pauses for a moment before shaking his head,"A sad little monkey? Raised among wolves? These are funny statements. I was raised for a purpose. I was raised to eliminate anyone that is a threat." He says pulling a knife out from his sleeve and twirling it just a little bit,"I am required to protect them. Respect is something earned, not given freely. You understand nothing." "I understand everything, little child. Careful with that knife. Knives are for men. Not boys." The cat says, eyes narrowing and his hands on his hips. "I am not going anywhere. This is -my- city as much as the Batman's. I was born here, and I died protecting it." Suddenly, fire erupts all around them and the street and the rooftop disappear in favor of a warehouse. Screams, and the images of a young men rescuing some young women from what are obviously cultists. Everything happens quickly- the young men cut ropes, push cloaked men, carry girls out. Except one who stays behind to ensure that everybody gets out safely. And that is why the cultists grab him and cut his throat, blood gushing like a river, and the world dies in fire. The illusion is gone as fast as it appeared. "I died for this city, and I live for it now. If you want to challenge my right to be here, go ahead. But until you give your life for an innocent, you know -nothing-." Yes, this means that Damian can now find out who he was- and verify whether there was any event of that sort that actually happened. Let him. He never hid who he was, he just didn't advertise it to spare his family the agony of seeing what he had been transformed into. "Death is easy. Living. Bleeding. Surviving. That's hard." Robin says in a cold voice,"Trust me, I know very well how to use this knife." He says in that same hard voice,"You died for this city and were given a chance to bleed for it. I've bled for this city protecting those who cannot protect themselves. Yes. I left their attackers broken in some way, but which is better, leaving scum broken or allowing calm. If I had my way, I would have killed them. However, Batman does not permit it so I just leave them broken." Disdainful eyes lock on Robin. 'If I had my way, Magneto would be dead...' 'If I had my way, I would have wielded that weapon and killed Darkseid, and Tony would be alive today...' His own words come back to him, and he looks at the loathsome creature in the rain, some broken bird trying to be bat. Two creatures incapable of being anything but barely-restrained monster. ~And to think I was on my way to becoming you.~ The cat smirks. And then the smirk changes into a smile, and that changes into as wide a grin as a Cheshire has ever given... and then it turns into pure, silvery laughter that echoes through the rooftops with the merriment of an epiphany. "You have to survive more attempts on your life before you can understand anything about me." Robin says looking at Vorpal,"You don't have the strength to do what needs to be done in those situations. Leave it to those already stained." Whether he means that as a compliment or an insult is actually up for debate. "Hopefully you'll never be able to understand me." He says in a cold hard voice. The cat's laughter continues ringing, and he slaps his thigh, it isn't clear if he's even hearing the Bat-Mite speak. It isn't until the laughter dies down that he reaches up to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. "... oh boy... hahahaha.... hah...." "Why are you laughing? I have said nothing funny." Robin says looking like he's ready to stab Vorpal again,"You are laughing like an imbecile. Laughter is the act of a joke. I have made no humorous statements." Still having a little bit of a chuckle, the cat looks at Damian. "The joke here is greater than you would ever understand." He looks at Damian with the most benevolent of grins. "No. I don't think you'll ever get it. In any case, I return to my patrol." The cat says, moving down the edge of the rooftop. Category:Log